


Interludium

by Jillian_Bowes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Chill XV, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Love, Smut, Spoilers, my new favorite ship thanks to noctglaive, unfortunately there's like no content for it so here i am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 12:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jillian_Bowes/pseuds/Jillian_Bowes
Summary: After a disastrous Ascension ceremony, Gilgamesh can no longer be Ardyn's Shield.  As the Scourge continues to wrack his body, Ardyn finds comfort in the only one who has always been there for him.





	Interludium

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to noctglaive.tumblr for unwittingly dragging me into this rare-pair hell with her amazing art! I couldn't help but borrow some of her ascension headcanon.

Ardyn’s chambers were a veritable disaster, Gilgamesh noted.  There was a crunch of glass under his feet with every step he took—shame, that glass-top table was supposedly one of Ardyn’s favorites.  Family portraits that once hung proudly on the walls were now torn to shreds, broken pieces of the frames strewn about the polished floor.  The crimson canopy over his bed had been wrenched from the mahogany frame and tossed aside.  His usual coat and vest lay crumpled in a corner—unlike him, considering the care he always took with his clothing.

There was a breeze coming from the balcony, blowing feathers about the room—and how many times had Ardyn gushed to him over those chocobo down pillows?  Stepping around the upturned wardrobe, he walked out onto the balcony and found what he was looking for.

“I thought you might come here,” Ardyn rasped, not bothering to turn and face Gilgamesh.  It was picturesque; the red light of the setting sun shone in his hair as his loose sleeves billowed in the wind.  The sight stirred up a familiar tingling feeling in his gut.

“You would do well to clean up this mess before anyone sees,” Gilgamesh said, carefully approaching Ardyn and leaning against the guardrail next to him. 

Ardyn scoffed.  “My affairs are hardly any of your business anymore, _Gil.”_

“Highness—”

 _“Don’t call me that,”_ Ardyn snarled, and Gilgamesh briefly had the foolish thought that it might have been a bad idea to come here without his armor.

Gilgamesh sighed.  “Ardyn,” he tried again, but Ardyn stopped him.

“You _swore,”_ he said, his bloodshot amber eyes ablaze, “you swore an oath to be _my_ Shield.”

“I am honor-bound to be Shield of the King,” Gilgamesh said softly.  “I am sorry.”  It was the truth.  He would have given an arm and a leg to remain at Ardyn’s side, but the public would be hard-pressed to welcome him back after the catastrophe at his Ascension ceremony.  The Crystal had rejected him, leaving Izunia to wrest the role of King from him, and Ardyn’s ensuing outburst had been playing over in Gilgamesh’s mind ever since.  The Scourge had affected Ardyn’s mood in a number of ways, but never in all his years as his Shield had Gilgamesh had to physically restrain him.  He’d kicked and screamed in rage at Izunia, the people he’d saved looking on in horror. 

Izunia at least allowed him to remain in the palace, but Gilgamesh had a nagging feeling that it was only temporary.  There were talks of having him imprisoned, but that was only hearsay.  Gilgamesh would never allow it.

It wasn’t fair.  Ardyn had loved his brother dearly, as much as one could.  He’d regretted his outburst as soon as the fog of the Scourge cleared from his mind—the kind and caring Arydn Gilgamesh knew so well had returned quickly as he’d left.  But now there was god-borne rift between Izunia and him that couldn’t be repaired.  Gilgamesh didn’t understand any of it—there was no one he knew so pure of heart as Ardyn, the Crystal _must have made a mistake_ —but he was now bound by duty to protect Izunia, and that was that.

Ardyn was silent, glaring daggers at the city below them. 

“Ardyn,” Gilgamesh said cautiously.  “This isn’t you.  You’ve changed, and I believe the Scourge may be to blame for that.” 

Ardyn gripped the railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white.  “You think so too, hm?  You think the gods were right?  The _Crystal?”_ He spat out the word as though it were poisonous. 

“I did not say that.”

Ardyn smirked ruefully.  “You didn’t have to.”  There was a silence, then Ardyn quietly asked, “What would you have me do, Gil?”

Gilgamesh let out a breath through his nose.  “Truthfully?” he asked, laying a gentle hand on Ardyn’s wrist.  “Stay.  Tend to your health.  Attend Prince Izunia’s Ascension ceremony and live out your days as Prince.” Ardyn frowned at that, but he said nothing.  “And clean up this damn mess,” Gilgamesh added with a small smile.

Ardyn huffed a little laugh and placed his free hand atop Gilgamesh’s, lacing their fingers together.  “No, Gil.”  Ardyn looked up and their gazes locked.  “Come with me instead.  Be my Shield.  Let them clean up the mess.”  He smiled and the pushed the hood of Gilgamesh’s scarf down as he ran his fingertips over the ends of his silvery hair.  He took a step closer so that they were only inches apart.  “No more rules.”

“Ardyn,” Gilgamesh said, guarded.  His eyes flicked down to Ardyn’s lips unintentionally; they were headed into dangerous territory.  He had always deflected Ardyn’s unabashed flirting, careful not to let it show how it affected him.  Personal feelings were not to get in the way of duty, a fact of which Gilgamesh reminded Ardyn often.  “We can’t.”

“Why not?” Ardyn breathed.  “There’s nothing for us here.”  He lifted a hand to Gilgamesh’s jaw, the pads of his fingers brushing over his skin with a feather-light touch.  Gilgamesh leaned into it, just barely, and closed his eyes.  A life without Ardyn flashed before his mind, and it made his heart feel vastly heavier.  They had spent years dancing around each other, and even longer simply enjoying each other’s company.  For all of that to come to a halt now was unthinkable. 

In the midst of his reverie, he felt Ardyn’s lips press against his own with a gentleness he hadn’t expected.  Gilgamesh had long imagined this moment, and now that it was happening, his focus zig-zagged—from the pleasant scrape of Ardyn’s stubble against his skin, to the almost relieved exhales they both emitted, to the way their lips molded together perfectly…

The kiss deepened, and Gilgamesh wasn’t sure which of them was responsible for that.  Their tongues met and moved together with an ease that nearly felt practiced.  Gilgamesh didn’t much care for the idea of destiny, but damn it all if it didn’t feel like this moment was meant to be.  His hands came up of their own accord to cup Ardyn’s face, holding him impossibly close. 

Ardyn leaned back, and Gilgamesh unconsciously chased his kiss, only stopped by Ardyn placing a finger to his lips.  Slowly, torturously, he trailed his hands down Gilgamesh’s arms and took hold of his gloved hands, stepping back into the bedroom and pulling Gilgamesh along with him.  Ardyn almost tripped over the bundle of curtains on the floor, but he laughed it off when Gilgamesh caught him and sat him down on the edge of the bed.  “Ardyn,” he murmured.  “Are you sure?”

“The Scourge isn’t contagious,” Ardyn lilted.

“You know that is not what I meant.  Are you _sure?”_ he asked again.  He needed to know that Ardyn was well enough, that he knew there would be no coming back from this.

Ardyn reached up to put a hand on the back of Gilgamesh’s neck, bringing him down for another kiss.  “Gods, yes,” he whispered against Gilgamesh’s lips, and Gilgamesh practically fell on top of him. 

Ardyn’s hands were all over him, roving his stomach and chest as if on a mission; his touch electrified Gilgamesh’s skin.  He was getting harder by the second, and he could feel the same of Ardyn beneath him.  Ardyn’s motions slowed and his kiss became less focused, and at once Gilgamesh wondered if he’d done something wrong.  He pulled away, only to realize Ardyn was attempting to inconspicuously kick his boots off.  To no avail, obviously; multi-tasking had never been Ardyn’s forte. 

Ardyn pursed his lips and glared.

“Let me,” Gilgamesh offered, sliding back and kneeling at Ardyn’s feet.  Taking one foot in hand, he deftly unfastened the buckles and slid the boot off with a teasing slowness before moving on to the other one.  Ardyn stifled a laugh as his socks were tugged off—no matter; Gilgamesh could exploit that weakness another time.

“Now you,” Ardyn said with a smirk.  “Get those dirty boots off my bed.”

“A little dirt on the bed is the least of your problems,” Gilgamesh retorted with a glance around the disheveled room, but he took them off nonetheless.  Ardyn took the liberty of taking his gloves and arm-warmers off for him, and Gilgamesh relished in the newfound contact without the leather barriers.  His lips found Ardyn’s once again, and they picked up where they left off.  He settled himself between Ardyn’s legs, and Ardyn deliberately rolled his hips upward.  Their erections brushed together, sending a wave of pleasure surging through Gilgamesh.  Ardyn let out a breathy moan, and Gilgamesh shuddered at the sound. 

Ardyn unbuckled Gilgamesh’s belt and discarded it, then fingered the hem of Gilgamesh’s linen tunic and pulling it up once he had a decent grip on it.  Gilgamesh raised his arms to let Ardyn take it all the way off, barely taking pause in rocking his hips against Ardyn’s once it was tossed onto the floor.  Ardyn sat up to remove his own shirt with a quickness that was surprising considering his health; his eagerness was endearing, if not almost comical.  When Ardyn lay back down, Gilgamesh marveled at the sight.

He had seen Ardyn without a shirt before—naked, even—but not like this.  He was never allowed to _want._   He let his fingers glide over the hair on Ardyn’s chest, then drift down to graze his firm abdominal muscles.  He’d been weaker these recent months, but Gilgamesh couldn’t help but kiss a trail up Ardyn’s abdomen all the way to his mouth.

When they broke apart, Ardyn gave him a sly half-smile.  “Much as I love the leather,” he purred, eyes trailing down to Gilgamesh’s trousers, “I do think those would look better on the floor.”  Hooking his fingers into the waistband, Ardyn pulled them down with his undergarments and Gilgamesh awkwardly shook them the rest of the way off, much to Ardyn’s amusement. 

Gilgamesh rolled his eyes, returning the gesture with a rough tug on Ardyn’s pinstripe pants, stripping him of the last of his clothing.  They were both naked now.  _This is it,_ Gilgamesh thought.  _No going back._  When Ardyn saw his hesitation, he brought Gilgamesh down for a feverish, penetrating kiss.  His nerves eased every time their lips met.

“Touch me,” Ardyn said into his mouth, taking one of Gilgamesh’s hands and guiding it to his arousal.  Gilgamesh took him in hand and stroked tentatively, gauging Ardyn’s reaction.  “Y-You can—tighter,” he panted, pupils blown wide.  Gilgamesh obeyed, and Ardyn’s subsequent moans spurred him on further.  Every sound he made went straight to Gilgamesh’s cock and sent shockwaves through him.  Ardyn was thrusting up into his hand in earnest when— “Wait.”  Gilgamesh stopped and watched wide-eyed as Ardyn maneuvered Gilgamesh’s hand to wrap around both of their erections.  “There.” 

Gilgamesh sighed blissfully, pumping them both at a slow, yet scorching pace.  He lost track of time; there was only the two of them in this room together, perfectly in sync with one another.  The only sounds in the room were their rasping breaths and voices.  He could have gone on like that forever, but Ardyn had other ideas.  Before either of them got too close, Ardyn stopped him again.  “Gil,” he said, the sobriquet sending a jolt through his spine like it never had before.  “Gil, I want you.”  Gilgamesh paused, nearly asked him to clarify before Ardyn leaned over and retrieved a vial from the bedside table— _olive oil_ —and reverently put it in Gilgamesh’s hands.

He took a moment to really look at Ardyn.  The Scourge had not been kind to him; he skin was paler, his once-bright eyes were now dull, but there was no hiding the longing behind them.  Gilgamesh could never say no to him, even if he wanted to.  “Okay,” he whispered, uncorking the vial and coating his fingers with the oil.  Ardyn lifted his knees, and Gilgamesh gingerly slipped a finger inside.  Ardyn shivered and relaxed against the pillows, bliss already framing his features.  Following the wordless instructions of Ardyn’s moans, Gilgamesh built up a pace that left Ardyn growing impatient.

“More,” Ardyn groaned, and Gilgamesh added another finger and crooked them both.  Ardyn gasped and bucked against his hand.  “Yes, _there,”_ and Gilgamesh’s heart jumped at Ardyn’s gravelly voice and flushed face.  He moved deeper, faster, adding another finger and rendering Ardyn a panting, sweaty mess.  _“Gil,”_ and Gilgamesh knew at once what Ardyn wanted. 

Gilgamesh withdrew his fingers, eliciting a whimper from Ardyn, and he gracelessly covered his cock with a copious amount of oil.  “Are you ready?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

 _“Gil,”_ Ardyn huffed.  Gilgamesh kissed the scowl off Ardyn’s lips and ever so carefully eased himself inside of him.  They each drew in a sharp breath and shakily let it out as Gilgamesh pushed in as deep as he could.  “Oh,” Ardyn breathed, tangling his fingers in Gilgamesh’s long hair and wrapping his legs firmly around his waist.  “Move?” he requested after a moment, far more polite than he’d been mere minutes ago.

Gilgamesh obeyed, rocking into him and beginning to kiss a trail up Ardyn’s throat.  They traded moans and gasps with every roll of Gilgamesh’s hips.  Ardyn’s legs tightened around him, driving Gilgamesh deeper inside.  He buried his face in Ardyn’s neck, laving it with open-mouthed kisses and tasting the salt of his skin.  Ardyn clung to Gilgamesh desperately as he trembled beneath him. 

Heat and pleasure roiled low in Gilgamesh’s belly, alongside another overwhelming feeling he couldn’t quite place.  It was more than just affection.  It was like belonging, like there could be no other place in the heavens or on Eos that Gilgamesh could be besides right here, with Ardyn.  There was an underlying fear there, too; fear that he was about to lose everything, fear that he had fallen too hard, too deep. 

Ardyn interrupted Gilgamesh’s thoughts when he cried out, and Gilgamesh knew he had hit _that_ _spot._   He aimed for it again and again and hit the mark each time.  Ardyn, writhing below him, reached for his cock, neglected and leaking between their bodies.  “No,” Gilgamesh murmured, gently batting Ardyn’s hand away and taking his cock in hand instead. 

He stroked him slowly at first, until Ardyn gasped out, “More, _more,”_ and Gilgamesh tightened his grip and obliged.  Ardyn was close, he could tell.  His moans grew hoarser, his chest heaved with every breath.  With his free hand, Gilgamesh brushed the sweat-matted hair from Ardyn’s forehead.  In Gilgamesh’s eyes, there had never been anything more beautiful.  He leaned down to touch his forehead to Ardyn’s, and he took his hand and clasped their fingers together tightly.  “Gil, I—” Ardyn started before he came with a sharp cry.

Still achingly hard, Gilgamesh untangled himself from Ardyn to pull out and lay next to him, reaching to finish himself off while Ardyn caught his breath.  The motion didn’t escape Ardyn’s notice however, and he rolled over to steal a kiss from Gilgamesh’s lips and knock his hand away, replacing it with his own.  “Allow me,” Ardyn teased, kissing him again. 

Gilgamesh was already dangerously close; when Ardyn swirled his thumb around the head, his breath hitched.  “Ardyn,” he said softly, melting under his touch.  His hips lifted to meet Ardyn’s hand—it wouldn’t be much longer now.  Ardyn continued to pepper him with kisses, breaking away only to whisper encouraging nothings in his ear and, oh _hell—_ his orgasm hit him like a wave, rushing through him and making his legs tremble with the power of it.

Ardyn’s hand slowed as he worked Gilgamesh through it until he had nothing left to give.  A silence passed between them as they both lay close to each other, coming down from their highs.  Ardyn began running a finger up and down the length of a particularly nasty scar on Gilgamesh’s arm, and Gilgamesh noticed that he was frowning.  “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

“You aren’t coming with me,” Ardyn said.  It wasn’t a question.

“You know I mustn’t.”

Ardyn sighed.  “…Okay.”

Gilgamesh knitted his brows together.  “’Okay,’ what?”

Ardyn met his eyes briefly, then nuzzled his head into the crook of Gilgamesh’s shoulder.  “I’ll stay,” he said.  “With you.”

Gilgamesh made no attempt to hide his relief.  He shifted to wrap his arms around Ardyn and said, “Everything will be all right.”  Ardyn leaned up to kiss him again, and Gilgamesh could feel some of the tension leave him.  “You should rest.  I’ll get a cloth,” Gilgamesh said, gesturing to the mess of spend covering them.   

He cleaned Ardyn up gently, slowly running the damp cloth over his skin with all the care in the world, and Ardyn returned the favor.  It all felt terribly domestic.  Gilgamesh could see a new future behind his eyes, though.  One where they could wake in the same bed together, exchange slow kisses and soft touches in the mornings before Gilgamesh departs for training, be together without duty coming between them.  He lay back down and gave Ardyn a tiny smile.  They would be okay.

“Stay awhile?” Ardyn requested.

There was no hesitation in Gilgamesh’s response.  “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> that was my first crack at smut! let me know in the comments how i did!
> 
> thanks again to noctglaive, and also to mischiefmanager for enabling me :')


End file.
